


Spreadsheets, pie graphs and consent, Oh My!

by youcantsaymylastname



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman: The Dark Knight Returns (2012-2013), DC Animated Universe, TDKR Bane
Genre: Bane/Barsad/John centric, Consent discussions, M/M, Pining John, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Scars, Voyeurism, sexy talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 21:37:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11299338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcantsaymylastname/pseuds/youcantsaymylastname
Summary: John needed to sleep. John needed his own place. John needed a quiet spot to sleep. But then John needed to go out dancing at The Iceberg and meet new people. Maybe he should text Barsad, the new self-defense instructor at work or maybe he should talk to the muscley masked guy working at Clocktower Station.Or maybe ... maybe... John just needed to sleep.





	Spreadsheets, pie graphs and consent, Oh My!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crewdlydrawn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crewdlydrawn/gifts).



> This is for Crewdlydrawn. Their prompt was Meeting on Public Transit. (I changed it a bit. I hope you don't mind!)  
> Thanks for the great prompt. I had ideas immediately.  
> This is a Bane/Barsad/Blake fic.

The first time John saw him, John was leaving the GPD through the back entrance after pulling a double shift. John worked graveyard shifts to save money so he could rent a tiny apartment alone, maybe in the Narrows or in Old Town.

Right now, he lived with two roommates in an old factory conversion near the Iceberg Lounge, but John was tired of sharing his space. After living in St Swithin's since he was six, John has never known the joys of living alone or having a time or place to himself.

 

John hurried towards Clocktower station, the cold wind whipping down the dark, deserted street when he noticed him. Him being the huge, muscley, bald guy wearing a large black mask over his face. As the muzzled masked man crossed the road towards the subway entrance, John listed all the -yes pleases- muscleman ticked in John’s want list.

Built like a Mack truck ✔️  
Hulked over John ✔️  
Wearing leather (motorcycle coat hnnnnnn) ✔️  
Gorgeous eyes ✔️  
Scary as fuck ✔️

John understood his penchant for guys who could bench press him before breaking him over their knee was problematic. But it was 6 am. And he had just finished a 16-hour shift. If John wanted to drool over bad boys with scary masks while he commuted home, who was he bothering? Masked man would never know.

John followed MM past the turnstile down towards the escalators. But MM didn't follow the trickle of early commuters down into the Clocktower tunnels, instead, he pulled out a keychain from his combat pants.

John noticed there was a disguised entrance in the upper hallway of the station. MM turned, made eye contact with John -odd- before MM opened the hidden door leaving John alone in the subway hall.

Where was the masked man going? Who was he? Did he seriously eyeball him? And what the fuck was up with that mask? John rubbed a hand over his face. God, he was tired. Dick was probably playing some vigilante video game on their couch which would interrupt John’s sleep in his bedroom. The walls were paper thin.

Tim would be beside Dick, typing away, so loud in the small conversion, researching his master’s thesis on Bruce Wayne Enterprises secret weapons manufacturing facilities.

Honestly. John was tired of listening to all of Tim’s conspiracy theories about Bruce Wayne while Dick fought imaginary bad guys on their only television. They were his best friends, but they were annoying roommates after night shift.

Maybe they’d go for a drink tonight down at the Iceberg? Forget it, John chuckled to himself, looking around the platform but it was empty. His roommates were terrible wingmen.

Maybe he could call that new guy from work, Barsad, to meet him for a pitcher after John crashed for awhile. John rubbed his eyes again, exhausted, as he waited for the next train.

Barad was a new combat instructor at the precinct. John decided after a robbery gone wrong he needed to improve his hand-to-hand fighting skills. John preferred to stop criminals with a quick kick to the wrist, disarming them, instead of shooting to kill.

Barsad taught the advanced Krav Maga classes. Although Barad seemed tiny, he was a powerhouse. John was so intrigued by this soft-spoken Arabic man, with a killer smile and a hush-hush military career. There were whispers: Barsad had been part of a CIA lead team during the Afghanistan War. Barsad had been recruited by an American military contractor in Nanda Parbat but the mission had been compromised.

After the botched mission, Barsad settled in Gotham, working with the police department and St Swithin's trauma centre teaching self-defense, meditation and as a part-time medic.

Barsad and John kept promising they should go for drinks after work. Barbara, John’s pushy police partner, heard through the police gossip vine that Barsad dates a burly guy twice his size with very noticeable facial scars. But Barsad never spoke about his sex life, so John wondered if Babs was just pulling his leg about the boyfriend to stop John from drooling over the hot self-defense instructor.

John leaned his head against the cool subway window. Watching the dark tunnels zip past, John wondered what type of guy Barsad would date. His boyfriend probably worked as an emergency triage nurse, an air traffic controller or a kindergarten teacher, something challenging, dangerous but extremely cool. Barsad was hilarious, exuded calm but had an air of danger and mystery.

Would Barsad date a colleague at all? John wondered how they met. John envied Barsad’s openness with his sexuality. How the hell did Barsad find time to meet people? He had three jobs. John couldn't even stay awake after his first job.

John watched each station whizz past him, Kendrick Square, Riverbend, Vauxhall, closer and closer to home. John knew not to fall asleep on the train, although it happened more than he'd like to admit. Before John could change his mind, he pulled out his cell, texting Barsad.

☎ Drinks at Iceberg? Tonight? 6? I owe you for practicing that kickass twist-kick-flip move.

John slid his phone back into his pocket before exiting Southall station heading towards his place. The sun was starting to rise, but it was still midwinter in Gotham. John pulled his scarf tight around his neck, hurried home, hoping his roommates had gone to bed leaving the place quiet and deserted for once.

John unlocked the heavy sliding door, his hope for a quiet morning sleeping doomed. Tim was typing furiously on his Macbook while Dick and Cassie screamed obscenities at each other while they played some awful battle death match game with giant blue ostriches shooting sonic death lasers from their eyes.

There were empty energy drink cans lined up across the coffee table. Tim had a Starbucks cup in his one hand typing aggressively with two fingers. John knew from years of experience there was at least a triple shot of espresso in his coffee.

John leaned against the door frame, feeling so tired he couldn't form complete sentences or thoughts. Where the hell could he go that wasn't loud or intense right now? He needed his own place. John needed sleep desperately.

Tim looked up from typing his Wayne Enterprises manifesto, grinning maniacally, and slurping his coffee. “Dude, I found some files from the darkweb proving Wayne Enterprises bankrolled a covert CIA mission to…” Tim was so hyped on caffeine and adrenaline his voice shook and pitched high enough for bats to hear.

John waved his hands in the air in surrender. “Stop Tim, I can't... uhmm….” John heard his cell chirp. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, hoping for a miracle.

☎ Just finished a 12 hour ambulance shift. Come over and have a drink or two with me. I hate being alone after a night like that.

John looked at the address Barsad texted moments later. John’s eyebrow lifted in surprise. Barsad lived three blocks west of the Iceberg Lounge. They lived in the same neighborhood. John looked up at Cassie and Dick who were each cracking open another energy drink. Tim was still raving about military interventions and Bruce Wayne’s convert secret identity as a vigilante.

☎ Are you alone? Promise you’ll whisper and be as chill as you are teaching meditation classes?

☎ Ahbal, you may sleep on our sofa if you need peace and quiet or we can drink beers then nap. I'm comfortable with either option. bšūfak.

John wished he wasn't so damned tired. Barsad must be exhausted as well because he was assuming John could understand Arabic. John wanted to look up what Barsad typed but John only had enough energy to wave distractedly to his roommates before turning around, locking the door and leaving.

John couldn't believe how close Barsad’s place was to their loft. The 25-minute walk through the lots of deserted warehouses, past the Iceberg, was still close enough to travel by foot. John yawned, hoping he wouldn't be rude for taking Barsad’s message literally. A quiet spot to hang with calm people. Yes, yes please.

John hopped from foot to foot after he pressed their door buzzer. The front door unlocked, John ran up the four flights trying to energize himself. Barsad invited him over for company not to be a zombie guest.

John's heart knocked in his chest, realizing what he was about to do. Visiting a guy he has a crush on while his brain powered down and rebooted meant John was likely to put his foot in his mouth.

Barsad opened the door, motioning for John to enter. Barsad still wore his green scrubs pants from his shift but they hung low on Barsad’s lean hips, defying gravity. John noted Barsad’s soft-looking well-worn black t-shirt that said mysteriously: the fire rises. Barsad’s normal scruff looked almost beardy and John liked this facial hair choice a lot. John wondered how the beard would feel against his skin… John shook his head. Stop thinking dirty, unpure thoughts about your friend.

“Welcome. Come in. Beer?” Barsad had a bottle of Gotham Pale Ale. John nodded trying not to ogle Barsad’s ass as he walked out of the living room into the tiny kitchen. John noticed how neat and spartan Barsad’s place seemed compared to his messy warehouse conversion.

“It's so quiet,” John sighed happily. Taking the cold bottle from Barsad, John took a long drink, savoring the differences between how he thought this morning would be and how it was shaping up to be.

Barsad smirked, leading them towards the huge couch. Both of them sat down facing each other, Barsad tucking his feet under him, looking relaxed and content.

“Bane is at work. Sometimes we don't see each other unless we wake up together in bed. I miss him.”

John took another big gulp of his beer wishing he had someone to wake up beside on his tiny futon every evening. “I envy you. Finding someone you're compatible with in Gotham while working nights, how did you do it?”

Barsad laughed. John loved how his eyes crinkled when he smiled. “It's a long story how we became a couple. But I’ll tell you the secret part our friends are unaware of… if you wish.”

John nodded, his eyes widening. Secrets. This was getting private, intense and exciting.

Barsad grinned, “Our ex introduced us.”

John scrunched his nose. What? “Pardon?” John took another drink, finishing the bottle regretfully. Barsad stood up quickly before John could stop Barsad from getting John another cold one.

Barsad spoke loudly as he walked out of the living room, “Bane and I were dating the same man several years ago. Kojo told us both he was seeing someone else but that he really wanted to keep us in his life and his bed.” Barsad curled back on the couch. John noticed happily that Barsad had moved much closer to him when he returned from the kitchen.

Barsad brought back several bottles, lined them up on the table and added an almost overflowing bowl of nacho chips to tempt John.

John was riveted to Barsad’s love life admission. Seriously. Kojo was a badass, how do you date two guys at the same time? How the hell does that happen without a fist fight or accusations of cheating? John crunched on some chips, waiting for more juicy details. Barsad raised an eyebrow, knowing instinctively how interested John seemed to be.

Barsad continued, “Kojo suggested Bane and I meet and tried to work something out. Kojo and I loved that dive bar on Second. When Bane stomped in, beautiful, so physically imposing, I knew. Then Bane spoke,” Barsad paused trying to find the right words, “he's brilliant. For most of the night we sat in a dark corner; I drank vodka straight from the bottle listening to Bane’s political and military philosophies, but a part of me just desired him.”

Barsad’s eyes lit up as he talked about the mysterious Bane. “Bane and I had immediate chemistry. Within an hour, I brought him to the back stairwell, begging him to let me suck his cock. Kojo found me on my knees, Bane holding my head, while I tried to deepthroat the largest cock I’ve ever had. Kojo leaned against the far wall, half drunk, pleased to watch his two lovers fuck for the first time. Kojo is quite the voyeur.”

John might need a moment alone to adjust himself. Holy fuck. “But, how, how do you negotiate that? Kojo and Bane were cool with this?”

Barsad foot rubbed against John’s calf. John couldn't breathe. This didn't happen to him. Hell, most of the time, John struck out because he picked unavailable men.

“Bane and I communicate our wants openly. Bane is a talker. I like listening to him, obeying, disobeying and making him uncomfortable. We also understand sometimes there's a desire for a third person in our lives... and in our bed.”

John’s body tingled. His brain hurt. He was too tired to understand what Barsad really meant. What if John misunderstood Barsad’s sexual innuendoes?

“Asdfgghjkkl…” John’s words refused to make sense. John was fucking up this moment. Oh my god. John wanted to run screaming from the apartment before he said something he’d regret. Or do something Barsad might misinterpret. Barsad was propositioning him, right?

Barsad held out a hand in a stopping gesture. “You're tired. This is a lot to take in. Let me get you a pillow and a blanket.” John’s heart sank. Nope. Barsad wasn't hitting on him.

Of course he wasn't. It was wishful thinking again.

Barsad gently touched John’s shoulder, grounding him. “Please, crash here. We’ll talk tonight. I'll introduce you to Bane.”

John nodded, his head shaking too fast up and down, trying to will his body not to grab Barsad and beg him to stay with him on the couch. ‘Don't ask him to cuddle. You’ll regret it. Ask for a quick handjob instead ...no... Shut up!’ yelled his brain in hyper-tired-anxiety-lust mode.

Barsad didn't exaggerate in his texts. The apartment was perfect for crashing, the couch comfy and long, John had many pillows plus a comforter tucked tightly around him and he fell into a dark, dreamless sleep.

John's eyes fluttered open, his tired brain regenerated and rebooted after all the intensity and tiredness of the early morning.

In the tiny kitchen, beside the couch, John could hear low rumbly voices.  
“Keefak,” Bane greeted Barsad. Text Inside 'How are you?' Tag

John must have been exhausted because he doesn't remember the door opening. Barsad’s boyfriend must have walked past him asleep on the sofa. John checked his cell phone, noticing that Barsad had plugged it into a charger after he fell asleep.

How could it be after 6? Thank god, he didn't work tonight. He wondered what Barsad and Bane were panning for tonight. Perhaps they could go to the Iceberg and dance.

John couldn't remember a time clubbing without Dick and Tim unintentionally cockblocking his every attempt to flirt or pick up. Dick always acted like a possessive ex-boyfriend, and Tim either flirted outrageously with John or chatted up whoever John had his eye on.

Either way, Dick and Tim thought they were helping his game. John shrugged it off as best he could. But Bane and Barsad could be the right combo for picking up or to be picked up. John couldn't be positive either way.

John’s curiosity to see Barsad’s boyfriend outweighed his capacity to follow social norms and wait for them to come into the living room and introduce Bane. John tiptoed towards the kitchen door, trying to catch a glimpse of the mysterious Bane Babs had seen once in the GPD hallways.

John peered around the door frame. Barsad, all relaxed lines, shirt off, bedhead, beardy, smiling, pajamas dangerously low on his hips, elbows on his counter holding a cup of steaming coffee. Damn, thought John, he’s even sexier than yesterday.

From this angle, John could only see the muscled back of the mysterious boyfriend. What John could see, made him giddy. The dude was massive!

Huge shoulders and biceps barely contained in a black t-shirt. He towered over Barsad although Barsad’s body language screamed relaxed, comfortable and flirty. Definitely flirty. Bane was bald. Unexpected. John thought back to his list of wants in a hookup, Bane hit every one of them. Yum. Hell, Bane reminded him of the guy he was following this morning at Clocktower station, sans scary mask and motorcycle jacket.

John noted that Bane wasn't as relaxed as Barsad though, pacing through the kitchen with his back to John, who was peeking from around the doorframe.

Bane boiled water with the clear electric kettle, adding sliced up ingredients on a cutting board to a teapot before placing three delicate china cups onto a tray.

Bane prepared some sort of black tea with fresh cardamom, ginger and black pepper. John thought about his roommates drinking energy drinks at 6 am straight from the can, while blocks away Bane and Barsad made fancy hot breakfast drinks together using an expensive frufoo tea set.

“Your friend is awake,” said Bane in the most deep, gravelly voice that shook John to the core. Who knew the combination of an accent and a teddy bear growl could be so yummy and scary simultaneously?

But John had been caught eavesdropping; John’s face heated up all the way to the tips of his ears. Shit. Massive boyfriend, who may or may not know Barsad propositioned John before bed, knew John tried to watch them secretly. ‘You're not a very skilled investigator, Dude, if you can't hide from two men in their own apartment.’

“Welcome, Robin John Blake, to our home. You may stop hiding in the shadows. Join us,” Bane continued his tea ritual, pouring the hot water into the pot, adding delicate containers of milk and sugar to the tray. Bane ignored John, until John stopped lurking.

John stood at attention in the doorway, trying to use his police training, but his fingers tapped on his pant leg giving away his nervous energy. John tried to speak, but he couldn't think of any joke or excuse to explain his rudeness. John couldn't decide whether he should own up to his spying or run before Bane turned around.

“Uhibbok, Habibi... But where are your manners? How did you sleep?” Barsad pushed off the counter, placing his coffee mug on the counter before approaching John. Barsad ran his hands softly down John’s arms, trying to ground him, to calm him, but John couldn't move, social awkwardness and lust freezing John to the spot. Text Inside 'I love you Habibi' Tag

Barsad held John’s right hand, lifting it, noticing John’s bruised knuckles from a fight a few nights ago. Barsad's fingers lightly examined his tender skin, as though Barsad’s hulking boyfriend wasn't a metre away, making heavenly-smelling tea that required five days and 78 steps to make.

Barsad lifted John’s knuckles to his lips. John breath caught in his throat. John stared into Barsad’s beautiful dark eyes, trying to figure out what the fuck was happening, but his head buzzed in excitement.

Barsad’s kiss was feather-light, but John felt a tiny scrape of Barsad’s facial hair against his knuckles. What would it feel like to kiss Barsad, feeling the softness of his lips against the textures of his beard?

“Before you eat him for breakfast, I made tea. Where are your manners, Barsad?”

John stepped backward because Bane snuck up directly behind Barsad. Bane watched John carefully as John tried not to gape openly at Bane. Babs had seen Bane before and had warned John.

Bane was even more striking than John had hoped or expected. Bane’s eyes seemed to pierce into his soul. His beautiful gray eyes dared John to say what John was thinking.

Instead of saying his thoughts out loud and perhaps insult Bane, John reached over Barsad’s shoulder to run his fingers across the raised red and white scars on Bane’s lips and cheek. The scars were healed, but John had worked in Arkham Asylum, had seen the Joker’s knife attacks enough to know those scars were maliciously given with a sharp object.

“Who did this to you?” John asked as he traced the raised scar tissue across his left cheek and back to his full bottom lip crisscrossed with marks. “Barsad, you didn’t tell me how… how..”

Barsad leaned into Bane. Bane wrapped one massive arm around Barsad, holding his boyfriend possessively, molding Barsad to his massive frame. John felt disconnected from them even though he was touching Bane so intimately.

Bane’s huge hand caressing Barsad lean, defined stomach. Was Bane warning John to stay away or tempting John to touch Barsad as well?

“How, what? John Blake?” Bane demanded. John’s thumb slid down Bane’s plush scarred lower lip as he tried to form a coherent thought.

“Barsad didn't tell me how.. hot you are.”

Barsad snort of laughter filled the kitchen. Barsad tilted his head upwards towards Bane seeking a kiss. John’s stomach flip-flopped. Oh, god, he wanted both of them. They looked so fucking sexy together.

Bane broke off the kiss, Bane’s mouth red from Barsad’s beard, Barsad’s eyes half closed, content to be in Bane’s embrace. How could they look so comfortable making out in front of someone they didn't know very well?

“Come closer, little one, we won't bite,” Bane said with a growl as Barsad pulled John’s hips, throwing John off balance, stumbling into Barsad and Bane.

“Falling for us already? You submit far easier than we hoped,” Barsad said as he held John close, their hips touching.

John studied Barsad’s dark blue eyes, wondering how the hell Barsad felt so confident wrapping his arms around John’s waist with, Bane, Barsad’s scary, hulking boyfriend towering over them both.

John decided to stop doubting Barsad’s intentions and ignore his own nagging self-doubt. “Are you two flirting with me… or… promising to tie me to the bedposts and fuck me? Because either way… I’m saying yes, hell yes,” John said giving into temptation. Why couldn't he lust over them as a couple? Who cared? John wasn't sure why he was fighting against his own insecurities.

God, he’s wanted to kiss Barsad since he opened the door this morning with his work scrubs hanging off his hips, cocky grin and that 3-day scruff.

Barsad’s lips brushed John’s with a soft kiss. John sighed happily. Yes, he wanted this man. John parted his lips, letting the kiss deepen. John needed more, so much more. John wanted to drown under the weight of these two men.

Barsad took control of the kiss, biting John’s lower lip, nipping, licking while John tried to keep upright. Large hands pulled him even closer, Bane’s hands, his brain supplied as John slid his arms around Barsad’s waist and grabbed behind Barsad to the dark material of Bane’s pants to keep him steady.

Bane growled again, “Habibi, before you order John to his knees to service your obvious need, the tea has finished steeping.”

John pushed away from the two men. Just thinking about kneeling in front of Barsad and Bane made his dick rock hard. How could Bane possibly think about caffeine when John could only think about how Barsad and Bane would look naked.

“Let sit in the living room and talk,” said Barsad calmly, taking John’s arm, leading him to the large sofa. Bane carried the tray he prepared over to the coffee table, pouring all three of them tea.

John glanced at the front door. On the hook beside his winter coat hung a huge black mask. John tried to place where he had seen it.

Holy shit! Bane was the guy in the subway this morning. John's head turned to look closely at Bane. How did John not remember him right away?

Bane nodded his acknowledgment to John, his eyes crinkling. Bane had seen him too. Did Bane know who he was before this morning? Of course, he did. Bane and Barsad must have been talking about John visiting their place even before John texted him. This was planned. They planned to proposition him. They wanted him.

John sipped his tea, breathe slowly to calm down his racing heart, trying not to overthink Bane and Barsad choosing him. John focused on the tea, marveling over the mix of flavors, trying to relax his overactive mind. They chose him. They wanted him in their lives. Their bed. Together. Soon. Now. Hopefully.

Barsad sat cross-legged on the couch, knee touching John’s thighs, tasting his tea before adding more milk. “Before we invite you into our bedroom and our lives, we should discuss boundaries.”

John looked from Bane to Barsad unsure what they meant. Boundaries. They have been planning this date before John even texted Barsad. John said he wanted them to tie him up and fuck him senseless, and now Bane and Barsad wanted to discuss boundaries? What the hell? John felt confused.

Barsad noticed John’s uncertainty, placing his hand on John’s upper thigh, but it was Bane who spoke first. “Boundaries are important when there are three people sharing an experience.” Bane paused trying to gather his thoughts.

Barsad continued, trying to explain themselves fully as Bane poured more tea. “We’ve been hurt before. Some shared experiences have been.. the most intimate but our most cherished too. Communication and openness are necessary before we consent and what we are consenting to, especially if you wish to be tied up.”

“There will be no play or ropes tonight,” said Bane softly. “We need more time to become acquainted. That's my hard limit today.”

John realized how lucky he was to meet Barsad and Bane as a couple. They have experience negotiating a threesome as well as polyamorous relationships. Their previous encounters would help make this less awkward and more meaningful.

Barsad squeezed John’s thigh, “But after we discuss our soft and hard limits,” Barsad’s lips curved in a dark smirk. “My hope is by the end of the night you’ll be on your knees gagging on Bane’s cock. You’ll look so pretty with your mouth full, whining, begging him to come on your face.”

John whimpered. Looked at Bane. He was so beautiful. Then John bobbed his head quickly up and down “Oh, God, I want that too!”

John tried not to squirm or adjust himself again. “We need to make a spreadsheet or a pie graph or, I don't know, a checklist? Do you have a notepad? Pen. C’mon. Let’s hurry this up.”

Bane opened a laptop which had been sitting on the table. “Do you have any hard limits, Robin John Blake?”

“Yes, next time... before... you promise to use me for your sexual pleasure, mention the serious discussion.” John glared at Bane because he was making double entendres sound filthy.

Barsad huffed, still hogging John’s personal space, grabbed John’s chin and pulled him closer for a longer kiss. John tipped towards Barsad, moving into his space on the couch.

“John, you need to be taught obedience as well as patience,” said Bane bemusedly as he typed obedience training into the spreadsheet.

Barsad pulled John into his lap, licking and biting his neck, “It might take months and months to correct your misbehaviours. How do feel about rigorous weekly obedience training?”

John snuggled into Barsad’s lap tilted his neck to the other side for Barsad to mark. “Will you spank me if I don't listen to your rules? I'm known as a bit of a hothead. I require a lot of care and training,” said John innocently cupping his erection, making sure Bane couldn't tear his eyes away from Barsad and John.

“Little bird, focus. You could come now in your pants or wait until we've completed this discussion. Barsad and I will then choose whether you deserve to come after we have been satisfied. I believe in rewarding patience, not insolence.”

John froze, hand cupping his hard dick. Just a few more strokes, John felt so close. But, Bane offered rewards and Barsad kept biting his neck. How the fuck could he concentrate?

John took his hand off his erection. Nodded emphatically at Bane. “Ok. First boring spreadsheets. Then I want to be spread out on your bedsheets. Promise?”

Barsad cupped John’s balls tightly through his pants, “If you’re a good boy, we’ll spread you wide open on our bed and Bane will lick your pretty hole till you beg to be filled.” John closed his eyes willing his erection to ignore Barsad’s words.

Bane’s fingers tapped more data into the document, “Robin has a lot of kinks to explore. If you come before we finish talking, we will not allow you to come again.”

Barsad squeezed John’s dick, reminding John again where this night could lead. John relaxed into Barsad’s chest, realizing Barsad and Bane wanted something more than a one-night stand. They wanted to understand what John wanted in a safe/sexual/consensual relationship.

John sighed happily leaning his head against Barsad’s shoulders as Barsad’s arms wrapped around him. “Add snuggling to the list. I love to snuggle after any D/s encounter and especially if I’ve been tied up.”

Bane stopped typing, glancing up from his computer. “I will create a 3rd column for a hard yes. Anything else, Little Bird?”

“You should bring that laptop over here so we can supervise your spreadsheet development.” John patted the side of the couch he had vacated when he crawled into Barsad’s lap. “We will need to proofread for content. Just know, if there are any corrections, Barsad and I may need to punish you for careless mistakes,” John said with a cheeky grin as Bane moved closer.

Barsad slid his hand under John’s t-shirt, caressing the soft skin. “I think we created a monster.”

Bane sat down, tucking his left foot and leg under his body to face Barsad and Bane. “I look forward to molding him into the perfect companion.”

Barsad shook his head. “Habibi, try saying the term boyfriend. John is our new boyfriend.”

Both men looked at John, waiting for his reaction. “If I stayed after the spreadsheet, you know I’m a sure thing.” John waited a second, then added, “But, yes, a thousand times yes, I want both of you to be my boyfriends.”

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you (as always) to teacuphuman who pushed me at the beginning to keep writing. (Also thank you for this exchange!)  
> A huge thank you to Deinvati who looked over all my work at the last minute.   
> Thank you to Marourin, Chasingriver, Jambee, Brooke and everyone in the Bane/John room who was so encouraging and positive.


End file.
